


It's Five O'Clock Somewhere

by fmpsimon



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Peggy x Daniel, peggy x sousa, peggysous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7849678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmpsimon/pseuds/fmpsimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two deaths, two funerals, and two people in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Five O'Clock Somewhere

When Daniel entered the church, he was overwhelmed by the number of people.  Overwhelmed, but not surprised.  Chief Dooley had been well-liked but, more importantly, well-respected by many in the community.  He had never attended a funeral quite like this.  His mother's funeral had been in a small church in their neighborhood; his buddies from the war...well, they were lucky if they got a funeral at all.

He was just straightening his tie when he saw Peggy.  She was walking into the church alone, all in black, except for her bright red lipstick.  Her eyes flicked in his direction and she started towards him.  "Quite the turnout," she said when she got closer, giving him a small smile.

"Yeah, people always come out of the woodwork for a funeral," he said a little sadly, but with an edge of bitterness.  He looked at her, saw the sad look in her eyes, and averted his own.  "Sorry."

"No, it's all right."  She clutched her purse a little tighter, glancing down.

"You look nice," he said after a moment.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she said dismissively, "My mother always said I looked dreadful in black."  She looked up at him, forcing a smile at her own self-deprecating humor.  She glanced behind him, her attention shifting.  "I think they mean to start soon."  He stepped aside as she took a seat in the nearest pew, and then sat down beside her.

The funeral was beautiful.  The priest stood and talked a lot about the Chief--how he never missed Mass, how he had been an altar boy and had been attending this church since he was small.  A young woman sang  _ Ave Maria _ and the Chief's brother gave the eulogy.  Daniel tried not to look at the front row, where Dooley's wife and children sat, crying; the little boy trying to comfort his mother, crying harder than ever.  When he heard a sniffle from Peggy, he passed her his handkerchief without thinking.  She dabbed at her eyes and her nose, and clutched handkerchief, her hands in her lap.  He surprised himself when he reached over and took her hand, and he was even more surprised when she wrapped her fingers around his.  They remained this way until the funeral ended and after the casket had been carried down the aisle.

Dooley’s friends and family began leaving around them.  They both uncurled their fingers at the same moment, and Peggy returned the handkerchief.  “Thank you,” she said.

“Any time.”  He stood up.  Most everyone had cleared out.  They would be on their way to the burial site.

“Back to work, then?” Peggy asked, catching his eye.

He shook his head.  “Nah, I took the day off.”

“So did I.”  She shifted from foot to foot, awkward in the silence of the cathedral.  “How about a drink?”

He smirked.  “A drink?  It’s barely two o’clock.”

“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Peggy said.  She smiled.  “What do you say?”

“Sure.  Why not?”

Daniel loosened his tie, watching the bartender pour his drink.  It was times like this that made him regret his decision to move to California.  But it was no use dwelling on it.  The decision had been made, and he knew deep down that Peggy Carter had no room in her life for him, at least in the way that he had wanted.  Wanted, he reminded himself, frustrated.  After everything, he still wanted her.  After she had rejected him, he had tried to pretend it had never happened.  They had become closer friends in the weeks that followed, but that wasn’t enough, and that was all there was to it.  That hadn’t been the  _ only  _ factor in his decision to accept the job in California.  It was a hefty promotion, after all.

“I expect this shall be our last drink for quite some time,” she said, a twinge of sadness in her voice.  He nodded into his whiskey.  “You’ll call, won’t you?”

He glanced at her, a little surprised, but quickly shook it off.  She was just being kind.  “Of course,” he replied.  And now  _ he  _ was just being kind.

\---

Peggy brought a shaky hand to her head, swiping a few strands of hair out of her face.  She wasn’t sure why Jack Thompson’s death had affected her so much.  Maybe it was the circumstances of his death, or that there was so much left unsaid between them.

“There wasn’t anything we could have done.”  Daniel closed the door to his office and took a seat beside her.  “He knew the risks.”

“I know,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut and nodding.  “But I can’t help thinking that if we had found him sooner, we could have saved him.”  She never thought she’d see the day…She had expected Jack Thompson to go on being a thorn in her side for years to come.

Daniel put his hand on her shoulder.  “You can’t think that way, Peg.”  He sighed.  “Neither of us can.”

His arm slid around her shoulders and she leaned into him.  “I’ll feel a lot better once we’ve solved this,” she murmured.

“Jack certainly wouldn’t want us moping around the office, that’s for sure,” Daniel replied in an attempt to brighten her spirits.  “What did he used to call you?  Marge?”

She groaned, and he chuckled.  “If there’s one nickname I hate, it’s that one.  Margaret, fine.  Maggie—splendid!  But, Marge?  No.  And he knew it.”  She shook her head.  “I am going to miss him, though.”

“Me too,” Daniel said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

She sniffled.  "I could use a drink."

"I have just the thing."  He got up and opened the bottom drawer of his desk, returning with a nice bottle of whiskey and two glasses.  "A gift from Jack," he said with a smirk as he poured out the amber liquid.  He handed one to her and she accepted it with a small smile.  "I'm not used to drinking at this hour."

Peggy laughed softly.  "It's five o'clock somewhere."


End file.
